


A Slice Of Insecurity

by leopardchic79



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 23:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopardchic79/pseuds/leopardchic79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an evening in the life of Enjolras and Grantaire.  Arguing and making up with a dash of neediness on the side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Slice Of Insecurity

**Author's Note:**

> My longer fic isn’t cooperating w/ my muse right now so I needed to write something short and sweet. Not beta'ed so all mistakes are my own.

Grantaire woke up to the feeling of someone gently shaking his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, he was unsurprised to be met with a set of bright blue ones, and for a quick moment he found himself concerned because they looked so upset. And then he remembered that he was supposed to be angry...

Sighing, he shut his eyes for a moment and looked past Enjolras to Jehan's sheepish expression. He nodded pointedly in Enjolras' direction and Jehan winced.

“I'm sorry! But he showed up on my doorstep looking so...sad.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes, but he could imagine the scene easily enough. He should've known that his best friend wouldn't be able to turn away another upset friend.

_Jehan knew who it was before he answered the door; he had been expecting the knock for a while._

_“Is he here?” Enjolras asked, his face stony, eyes not quite meeting Jehan's own._

_Jehan crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes. But he doesn't want to see you.”_

_Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue that point, but his determination seemed to fade when he met Jehan's cool expression. He let out a shaky breath and nodded instead. “Is he...okay?”_

_Jehan hesitated, unsure exactly how to answer such a loaded question. But he thought he might know what Enjolras wanted to know. “He's asleep on the couch. He's...safe.”_ Not dead-drunk in an alley _, he added mentally._

_Enjolras hesitated again as if he wanted to ask Jehan something else, but he shook his head a little, apparently changing his mind. “Thanks, Jehan,” he murmured. He turned then, eyes full of hurt as Jehan caught them briefly. His shoulders slumped a little as he walked away._

_It only took Jehan a moment to change his mind. Despite being angry with Enjolras for hurting Grantaire, he couldn't turn his friend away when he was in such obvious pain._

_“Enjolras...wait...”_

Grantaire glanced at Enjolras who was biting his lip and looking steadily at his hands. He hated the stab of sympathy he felt...the immediate desire to comfort and stop whatever it was that was causing Enjolras pain. He was supposed to be angry with him.

He dragged a hand over his face, already feeling a headache starting to form between his eyes. He should’ve gone to a bar instead of Jehan’s.

Swinging his legs off of the couch, Grantaire stood up suddenly and reached for his jacket which had been draped over the back of the couch. He could feel Enjolras’ eyes following him, but he ignored him for the moment in favor of squeezing Jehan’s shoulder.

“Thanks for letting me sleep on your couch…and for listening,” he said softly. 

There were two things Grantaire knew he could always count on in life: arguing with Enjolras and for Jehan to listen. Three things actually if he included alcohol. Funny how he counted on it less now that he had the other two.

Jehan looked like he wanted to apologize again for letting Enjolras in, but Grantaire smiled a little and shook his head. “It’s okay…really. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Jehan nodded.

The next breath he drew in was a little shaky, but he managed to keep his face relatively neutral when he turned to look at Enjolras. “Let’s go home.”

Enjolras raised his eyes slowly to look at him, their deep blue filled with an intensity that was still shocking to Grantaire at times. Especially now as it was laced with a pleading sort of sadness and regret. Neither were emotions that Grantaire liked seeing on him.

But he didn’t want to do this here. And besides…he was still furious with Enjolras. 

He didn’t wait for any definitive sort of response before he turned and left, walking briskly out of Jehan’s front door and towards their shared apartment. He only released the breath he’d been holding when he heard footsteps behind him.

Enjolras caught up to him quickly, but he didn’t say anything and he was careful to keep enough of a distance between them that their shoulders or hands didn’t touch.

It wasn’t until they were home and standing at opposite ends of their living room that Grantaire acknowledged his presence. He met Enjolras’ gaze and crossed his arms over his chest protectively. He was fully prepared to restart their earlier argument if he needed to, but the mood wasn’t the same. Most of all – angry or not – he wanted that look of lost desperation off of Enjolras’ face.

“You came looking for me,” he stated quietly.

Usually they let one another cool off after an argument, particularly when it was as heated as this one had been. They were both good at saying things they ended up regretting. Grantaire often went drinking or – more recently – to Jehan’s. Enjolras slammed doors and locked himself in a room with books and more often than not, a long, calming phone call to Combeferre. They always made their way back together the next day or evening with apologies in words or touches or both.

Enjolras met his eyes steadily, although they were still clouded with something sad. He took a few hesitant steps closer, but he made no move to touch Grantaire.

"I was...worried," Enjolras murmured. "I said some things that were...especially harsh..."

Grantaire scoffed, remembering everything Enjolras had said quite clearly. "That's an understatement," he muttered under his breath. He looked up expectantly for the resulting scowl his words should bring but was surprised to only find the same hesitant worry there instead. He was more than ready to start round two of their earlier argument, but Enjolras seemed unwilling to play along. And the look in his eyes now put a damper on Grantaire's still-simmering anger.

He closed the distance that Enjolras seemed unwilling to breach, stepping forward to reach out and lay his hand against the side of his neck. "What's wrong, Apollo?"

Enjolras swallowed hard and quickly looked away from his eyes. Grantaire frowned and moved closer still, other hand reaching out to slide slowly up and down his arm.  


Grantaire could feel Enjolras' pulse fluttering against his fingers. 

"I'm...I'm sorry, R."

Grantaire rolled his eyes, wondering why Enjolras seemed to be so worked up over an apology. No, they weren't something he was particularly good at, but he'd managed to say he was sorry before...and with much less desperation. 

"You meant it though," Grantaire replied. "Most of it anyway." He shrugged. Yes, he was still angry - and to a lesser extent, hurt - but this wasn't exactly a novel situation for them. They argued a lot, said things in the heat of anger that they meant & things they didn't, but they always worked it out. It was just part of who they were together.

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say though because Enjolras’ face crumpled for a second and then suddenly he was stepping into Grantaire’s arms and clinging to him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice no more than a harsh whisper this time.

Grantaire was dumbfounded by his behavior and he was quick to push his remaining anger to the back of his mind, concerned solely with finding out why Enjolras was acting this way.

“Hey…Apollo, it’s okay,” he murmured soothingly. He held Enjolras close and smoothed a gentle hand through his curls. “What’s wrong?”

Enjolras pressed his face into Grantaire’s neck and drew in a shaky breath, his lips brushing against Grantaire’s skin. His fingers pressed tightly into Grantaire’s back.

“Please don’t leave me.”

And that got Grantaire’s attention in a flash. He pulled back abruptly and took Enjolras’ face in both of his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“Leave you? Where on earth did you come up with such a stupid idea?”

Enjolras bit his lip, eyes bright and desperate. Grantaire really hoped he wasn’t going to cry. He’d only seen that once and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. It hurt too much to see him cry.

“Courfeyrac said that--”

“Wait. Stop,” he interrupted quickly. “Since when are you listening to Courfeyrac for relationship advice?”

At that a flash of annoyance appeared on Enjolras’ face and it was so normal, so _him_ , that Grantaire felt a quick burst of relief.

“Since I called Combeferre and didn’t realize that he wasn’t the one who answered the phone.”

Grantaire had to stop himself from laughing. Instead he smiled and ran his thumbs over Enjolras’ jaw line, still framing his face. He maintained eye-contact better when Grantaire forced him to.

“Tell me.”

“I called ‘Ferre to tell him about our…argument,” he explained softly. “I just started talking when the call went through and of course Courfeyrac didn’t interrupt me.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “So I take it he didn’t calm you down the way Combeferre would have?”

Enjolras scowled again and shook his head. “When he finally let me know it was him, I was furious. I…said some things I shouldn’t have….”

“Twice in one night; you’re doing well.”

Enjolras glared at him for a second but then he only looked sad again and Grantaire regretted his choice of words. “Keep going,” he prompted softly. He brushed his fingers over the hollow behind Enjolras’ ear and was happy to feel him shiver.

“He snapped back at me and told me that sooner or later…with the way I treat you, that you would…leave me.” His words trailed off to a quiet, fearful whisper.

Grantaire was suddenly furious with Courfeyrac.

“I know he was probably just angry and lashing out at me,” Enjolras went on. “But it made me wonder…with all of the things I’ve said…how long before you decide it’s enough? How long before you give up and walk away?”

Grantaire pulled him closer and pressed his hand firmly against the back of Enjolras’ neck. He ran the other through his blonde curls and then let it drop to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. He made sure Enjolras was looking into his eyes before he spoke.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Ever.”

Enjolras swallowed hard. He touched the side of Grantaire’s face, fingers dragging over stubble to trace along his jaw.

“But I know that I can be…”

“Infuriating?” Grantaire interrupted, a soft smile on his lips. “You’ve got that right.”

“R…”

Grantaire cupped his face in both hands again and looked into his eyes. “I’m not going to leave you. Where would I go? What would I do with myself? And for the record, I’ve said my share of awful things to you too. Why shouldn’t _I_ be the one who’s worried?”

Enjolras didn’t seem to have an answer for that but he shrugged helplessly, still not looking quite convinced. It was strange the way their relationship had developed over the past few years since they’d been officially together. Where Enjolras was brutally confident in every aspect of his life, it seemed to fade into insecurity and uncertainty at times when it came to their relationship. Grantaire, on the other hand, seemed to gain confidence from being with Enjolras. It had taken him a while to get past looking at him as someone better, as someone he should place on a pedestal to admire. But now…where he still lacked belief and commitment in most aspects of his life, he had gained it tenfold when it came to the two of them. It was one of the many ways they seemed to balance each other out.

“I’m not going to leave you, Enjolras,” he repeated, leaning in to punctuate his words with a soft kiss. “No matter what we argue about. I promise.”

He leaned in for another kiss, and this time Enjolras responded. His kisses were still a little on the desperate side, but he finally relaxed against Grantaire’s body and wrapped his arms around his back to pull him closer. When their kiss broke, Enjolras leaned in and sighed, dropping his chin to Grantaire’s shoulder and hugging him tightly. 

Grantaire smiled to himself and yawned as he returned the embrace. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly morning, but he dragged Enjolras to bed with him before the other man could protest and decide to forego sleep for work.

They woke up much like they had fallen asleep – pressed together, legs tangled, arms around one another. Enjolras looked at him warmly and Grantaire couldn’t help pressing closer and kissing him, wanting to taste his morning smile.

They laid in bed for a while, Grantaire tracing patterns on Enjolras’ skin; Enjolras grabbing his hand lazily to tangle their fingers together.

“You’re still angry with me, aren’t you?” Enjolras asked finally. 

Grantaire was relieved to see that he didn’t look so upset or worried anymore. He shook his head and kissed him lightly. “No, I’m not. You infuriate me…but you’ve always done that. I’m not entirely certain that will ever change. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied softly. “Even when you irritate and annoy me until I lose my temper.”

“Just think of how boring we’d be if we always got along.” He grinned and pressed another kiss to Enjolras’ lips when he rolled his eyes.

“You’re stuck with me, Apollo,” he whispered against his lips. He ran his hand across Enjolras’ shoulders and down along his spine to press into his lower back. Enjolras shivered at the touch and deepened their kiss as he pressed in closer.

“Good.”

Fin


End file.
